creactivity.

I don't have many answers. The answers I do have are shaky, at best. I make room for this. I breathe. 

I'm not sure what to say about creativity that hasn't been said before. You either have it, or you don't. Or maybe you're one of those people that has a button collection. In the end, all of the buttons make up a collage of colors and texture, and while button collecting doesn't seem very creative, it sure is something to look at. So what makes people tick?

That's what I loved about writing for a newspaper. Finding out what makes people tick, and using what makes me tick to write about it. I miss it terribly, but at the same time, I've had this gnawing feeling that tells me I'm on to something else. Maybe something bigger. Like a novel, or a collection of stories, or an illustrated book of poetry. O.K., probably not the poetry thing. I'm just not all that good at it.

So maybe the thing about creativity, is that whatever it is, creative people just need to make things happen. Even if they don't make any money, or if it's harder than spending their time decompressing after they've done their 40 hours already. Even if it means sacrificing family time, or holidays, or having a bigger, cleaner home than your neighbor. Even if it means sacrificing what's left of all of your time.

As for me, I'd skip three meals a week to have a little bit more time to do all of this. If only the "this" would present itself in such a way that the little voice in my head that tells me I'm all washed up shrivels up and dies. I hate that voice.

I have so much more respect for people when they let creativity rule their universe, even when the odds and their day job and the laundry are all stacked up against them. Sometimes I dream about having enough money to forget all about that and reach the point at which I use all of my creativity all of the time. But then, I'm afraid if that happened, I'd forget what makes it so important in the first place.